


Two Beers and the Truth

by Devereauxs_Disease



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Bitty comes out, Coach is doing his best to be supportive, M/M, Suzanne would just like her boys to talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-29 12:33:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11440950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devereauxs_Disease/pseuds/Devereauxs_Disease
Summary: Bitty decides to tell Coach that he's gay. He's doing it for himself, and for Jack. But will this monumental step go well?





	Two Beers and the Truth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mwuahna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mwuahna/gifts).



> A birthday fic for my fandom bestie, Wrath. It's late, but heartfelt. Enjoy!

         Bitty knew that coming out to coach would end one of three ways.

         The first scenario was the one that had kept him silent since middle school when he realized that it didn’t matter how many girls stole kisses from him, he just wasn’t interested. He could see Coach’s face turning to stone, the way it did when the Dawgs lost a game in overtime, and hear his father’s steely voice proclaiming  _I have no son_. Some nights he would still wake up shaking when he thought about that scenario, if he was lucky, Jack would be there to gather him up and mutter soothing bits of nonsense into his hair as he trembled.

         The second scenario was more likely, but still not something Bitty was looking forward to. Coach would press his lips together until they disappeared behind his mustache, then nod with a resigned air. If he was lucky, Bitty would get an awkward slap on the back and Coach would mutter something Suzanne told him Oprah said to say. It would be disappointment, but acceptance. Some days Bitty wondered if that wouldn’t be worse than outright anger.

         The third scenario Bitty blamed on Chowder, who seemed to think everyone in the world would be thrilled with a gay son. In this dream setup, Coach cried, opening his arms to his son and assuring Bitty that he could never be prouder of a child. They would cry together, then, hugged up on the porch swing, talking about life and maybe boys.

         Bitty bit his lip, wondering which scenario he would be living through. He rolled his shoulder, preparing for a disappointed pat. He glanced at his mother in the kitchen.

         With a sigh, Suzanne moved to the refrigerator, picking out two beers and holding them out to Bitty. She kissed his forehead. “Go on, I’ll be doing dishes if you need me.”

         Bitty nodded and looked toward the porch again.

         “I can do this,” he muttered. “For me. For Jack.”

         Bitty pushed open the screen door and moved to the porch swing, where his father sat. Bitty held out a beer in a slightly shaking hand.

         Coach looked at the beer, then raised a brow at his son. “That bad, huh?”

         Bitty’s eyes widened and his knees buckled. “What? No. Yes? I- Coach, we shou-”

         “Junior, sit down before you fall down.” Coach smacked the open space next to him on the swing. Bitty sat, moving to open his beer when a large hand fell over his.

         “Bittles don’t drink for courage, son.” Bitty squirmed under Coach’s stare. “You tell me now.”

         “I-uh…well.  _Lord, ok_. Coach, I’m…kinda gay.”

         “Kinda?” Coach cocked his head. “Does that mean you’re bisexual?” 

         “Oh. No. Gay. Just…gay.”

         Coach nodded. “Ah ok, that’s what I thought.”

         “What you-”

         “Suzy!” Coach called over his shoulder into the kitchen. “He told us! We can talk about it now!”

         “Wait, I-” Bitty shook his head, utterly lost. “You knew?”

         “Since that time Mason Mawbry broke your heart in the 7thgrade. Lord, you cried for days over that boy.” Coach rubbed at his chin, thoughtfully. “I mean, I always suspected, with the baking and the figure skating and the Beyonkers-”

         “Beyonce.”

         “Right, Beyonce,” Coach nodded. “I know it don’t necessarily mean nothing, but son you weren’t exactly fighting the stereotype, Junior.”

         “You, you never said anything.”

         Coach shrugged. “Your mama said some doctor on Oprah said not to say anything. We have his book upstairs somewhere. Says to wait until you came to us. Hell, after a while we just figured you liked the closet. I wanted to just ask, but your mama said we shouldn’t. The people in the meetings said to wait too, I figured they knew what they were talking about.”

         “Meetings?”

         “Suzy! What’s the meetings for the gay parents called again? Flags?”

         “PFLAG, Richard.”

         “PFLAG, that’s it.” Coach turned back to Bitty, with a nod. “They have meetings in Atlanta. We go about once a month in my off season. Nice people, terrible coffee.”

         Bitty gaped at his father. Coach just smiled, gently taking the beer from Bitty’s hands and popping the top. He handed it back to his son before opening his own bottle and clicking it against Bitty’s. “Don’t think liking boys gets you out of anything, Junior. Your mama and I expect some grandbabies.”

         “And a wedding!” Suzanne called from the kitchen.

         Coached lifted his beer to the kitchen window. “That too.”

         “You knew this whole time,” Bitty tried to blink back the tears. He felt his father’s arm circle around him.

         “You’re my son, junior.” Coach squeezed lightly. “I may not understand wanting to kiss boys, but that don’t mean I love you any less.”

         “Thank you.” Bitty pushed into his father’s chest, his beer knocking against the swing.

         “My boy.” Coach pressed a kiss to the crown of Bitty’s head before sitting back, using the back of his hand to swipe at his eyes. “Lord, look at the two of us. Can’t imagine what it’ll be like when you bring home a boy.”

         Bitty sat back, pulling his lip between his teeth. Coach squinted.

         “There’s already a boy?” He turned toward the kitchen again. “Suzy, did you know there was a boy? Who is it, son? Is it that boy who called the house the other day? Soup?”

         “Chowder.”

         “Nice kid, little dippy though, if you want my opinion. He asked me about who would win in a fight, sharks or dogs.”

         “Chowder has a girlfriend.” Bitty laughed, taking a sip from his beer. “You’ve, uh, you’ve already met my boyfriend. It’s…uh, it’s Jack.”

         “Jack…JACK ZIMMERMANN?” Coach’s eyes were wide. Bitty nodded. Coach rolled his eyes. “Of course you’re dating Jack Zimmermann.”

         “Coach?”

         “Don’t mind him, Dicky, he’s fine.”

         “The hell I am!” Coach frowned. “I already hear about Bad Bob more than I care for, now I gotta hear about Jack. You had to have this in common with your mother, didn’t you?”

         “Our boy has good taste, Richard.” Suzanne called over the sound of running water.

         “Don’t mean I have to like it.” Coach grumbled. “The Zimmermanns aren’t that dreamy, you know.”

         “They’re pretty dreamy, actually,” Bitty smiled.

         “They sure are!”

         Coach made a disgruntled noise and rolled his eyes again. After another swig of his beer, he nudged Bitty with his foot. “He treat you right?”

         Bitty nodded.

         “You love him?”

         Bitty nodded.

         “He love you?”

         Bitty smiled.

         “Jack Zimmermann, huh.” Coach sighed. “When he visits next month, I expect him to stay in the guest room,  _alone_ , Junior.”

         “What?” Bitty blushed, trying not to think about last summer and the late-night visits to Jack’s room across the hall.

         Coach raised a skeptical eyebrow at his son’s innocent eyes and red face.

         “Look son, I might have to live with the fact that the two people I love most in this world love Zimmermanns more,” Coach pointed a finger at Bitty’s nose. “But that doesn’t mean I have to invite Jack Zimmermann to get laid under my roof. Jack stays in that guest room, ya hear?”

         “Lord!” Bitty was red from the tips of his ears to his chest, he wondered rashly if this brand of acceptance was worth the embarrassment.

         “Your father’s right, Dicky.” Suzanne called from the kitchen. “You two get engaged and we’ll think about relaxing the rules. Until then, no hanky-panky in this home.”

         “You two want to fool around, you go sneak off in the woods or find a place to park like Suzy and I did!” Coach was laughing now.

         “COACH!” Bitty gripped his chest, utterly scandalized.

         “RICHARD! Good lord!” Suzanne stomped out of the kitchen holding a dishtowel like a weapon.

         Coach wrapped an arm around Bitty’s shoulders, sheltering his son from the swats of the towel as they laughed.


End file.
